Realizations
by KShade
Summary: Set in S6. Slightly AU. One night after as Buffy's leaving Spike's crypt, she realizes she might have feelings for the vampire.


**So, I was trying to write a normal one-shot.. I was going to stay in my comfort zone and write something good and OMWF-y. Nope. Instead here I am, with a plot-bunny about the mutually abusive relationship between Buffy and Spike in S6. Well done, self.**

**I own… wait for it… nothing. Nothing except my ideas.**

_In Spike's crypt_

"I love you," he whispered as Buffy got up to get her clothes. She wasn't even looking at him, focusing on methodically dressing. He was bloody tired of her ignoring him. "Slayer!" he called, trying to get her attention.

"Don't say that!" she reprimanded him sharply, turning around and dealing him a kick to the head. How dare he tell her that? He was a soulless, disgusting…thing. He probably couldn't even love, much less love someone like her, who could—should kill him any day. She'd told him, this was just so she could feel. No other reasons. Why couldn't he listen?

"Slayer?" Spike asked, moving behind Buffy, "I agree, love, we can keep the slaying out of here," he moved his hands to her neck, massaging the tensed muscles. Buffy tensed more as his cold hands began to stroke and massage the back of her neck. It felt so good after a long day's slaying, but it shouldn't. The soulless, immoral creep shouldn't be able to touch her. Buffy and vampires were supposed to be un-mixy things.

"No, I mean the other thing you said," she said weakly, not even wanting to repeat it, lest he get the wrong idea. There was no way she would ever say "I love you" to the vampire. Not without another of Willow's "my will be done" spells gone wrong.

"I've said many things, pet, you'll have to refresh me," he responded, smirking. Spike knew what Buffy meant, but if this was the closest he could get to her saying "I love you", he'd take it. Buffy could already tell he was playing with her.

"You said that you loved me," she said simply, not giving him the satisfaction. "But you can't love. You need a _soul_ to love. And I could never trust you, even with a soul," she added cruelly. Spike didn't understand what he'd done to warrant that. He'd been there for the stupid bint when no one else was and this was how she repaid him?

"I do love you, pet," he responded, his voice hardening, "but if you can't accept that then _sod off,_" he gestured towards the door of the crypt. He was so tired of being used. He _loved _her. Why did she treat him like the dirt beneath her shoes?

Buffy was faring no better. She was _done_. Why did Spike have to make this so hard? She just wanted to feel, could she not do that? She turned to leave, almost ignoring her more violent urges… almost. She turned around and dealt a hard right hook to Spike's jaw. It felt good, letting the slayer side of her shine through. She thought, maybe if she hit Spike a few more times, he'd stop sounding like William and go back to being the infuriating vampire that she knew him as. At least then, she was sure of her feelings for him.

Spike het her hand connect with his cheek, but quickly retaliated by shoving her into one of the crypt's stone walls. Stupid bint. Why did he have to love the one person who could never return that love? At least the bloody bot could pretend.

Buffy kicked him, flipping them around when he staggered off guard and pinning Spike against the wall. She hit him again, this time on the other cheek. "do you," she hit him again, "love me," she hit him again, "now?" she demanded, punctuating it with the hardest blow yet.

Spike's blue eyes met Buffy's hazel ones, "always, and you'd be bloody stupid to think that hitting me a few times is gonna change that," he responded, knowing she was going to keep hammering at him until either he gave in, or she gave up. His only hope was that she'd realize how much he loved her if he refused to cave. He just hoped she didn't break him too much in the process.

Buffy narrowed her eyes at him, turning to walk away. Was Spike doing this just to torment her? Her conscience was killing her, partly for seeing him at all and partly for using him. Did he know what this felt like? She'd just been ripped out of heaven, and now she felt torn between self-loathing and her conscience agonizing her. She should never have kissed him.

Spike ran after her, grabbing her shoulder, spinning her around, "I love you, Buffy," he said softly, and then he kissed her. It wasn't like their other kisses; those had been rough and passionate, more lustful than anything else. This kiss was gentle and sweet. Spike felt like a bloody ponce, kissing Buffy like that, but he couldn't bring himself to stop.

Buffy kissed him back, tentatively. This was so much more William than Spike, she realized. This had to be a ruse. He couldn't love. He was beneath her. But as she felt his lips, gently caressing across her own, her reasons seemed kinda… excuse-y. Even when he was being gentle, his kisses made her crazy. She just wasn't used to feeling so…treasured, so…loved.

She didn't just think that _Spike_ made her feel _loved_, did she?

Spike, slowly gaining confidence, wrapped his arms around her, not taking the opportunity to feel her up or do anything that would contradict what he was trying to prove—that he did love her, not just her body. He held her there, thanking the Powers that Be for the fact that he didn't have to breathe, still kissing her gently, trying to suggest deepening the kiss. He didn't want to force her like he normally would.

Buffy took the hint, parting her lips and allowing him access, the part of her mind that hadn't shut down idly wondering why Spike was doing this. As she felt his hands running through her hair, again, so softly. Buffy sighed against his lips at the way their tongues danced, almost languorously. She was used to them sparring, so this dance was unexpected to say the least. Done trying to seem stoic, Buffy embraced Spike back, her strong arms pulling the still-shirtless vampire closer to her. She could feel him, straining against his hastily donned pants. _Why hasn't he pushed for anything yet? _she wondered, _if that were me…_

Spike felt Buffy's warm body press against his, and it felt like heaven. Hoping she would listen to him now, he pulled away and she opened her eyes, the hazel depths filled with longing. "I love you," he said again, his eyes not leaving hers.

Buffy heard Spike and froze a little. "I-I," she said weakly, feeling like absolute crap because she couldn't say it back, "I-I have feelings for you," she responded, "it's not love, but," she trailed off. _But what? But someday, it might be? But it's because I can't trust you? But you make me feel? _She didn't finish the sentence.

"But it might be, someday?" Spike asked, a spark of hope visible in his beautiful blue eyes. He couldn't believe what she was saying. Was she implying that these 'feelings' were all that he would ever get, or was she trying to tell him that she might love him some day?

"Yeah," she said softly, unable to believe what she was saying. She was the slayer, and he didn't have a soul. But when she was with Spike, she could feel. And soul or no soul, his love felt real. She was sure it was real. That little part of her conscience could shut up.

Spike kissed her again, this time excitement clear in the way he kissed her. This was a celebratory kiss. Buffy even felt like she had something to celebrate. When was the last time she felt like this? Buffy may not have been in heaven right now—not literally—but she felt like it was worth it. Living was worth it. She remembered how Spike had sung that to her "you have to go on living."

Spike couldn't believe it! Buffy might love him. Granted, it wasn't quite as good as her saying it then and there, but that she would even consider him meant so much to him. He wasn't "beneath her" any more, he was hers. He trailed passionate kisses down her neck, careful not to mark her, that might be hard for her to explain later. She arched into him, loving the way he made her feel.

She let out a moan-like noise as he found the spot on her neck that drove her wild. Sometimes, Spike seemed to know her better than herself. Not that she would admit it. He kissed down from her neck to the edge of her hastily thrown on shirt. She ground her hips into his, desperately trying to ease the throbbing. It had barely been fifteen minutes since their last bout, but this was very different. This wasn't fucking—or shagging as Spike would be apt to call it, this was love making. And she could tell he was no less aroused.

Spike made a humming sound in the back of his throat when Buffy's warm body contacted his raging erection. He tugged lightly at the hem of her shirt, and she rubbed against him again, harder this time. Spike took her shirt off, exploring her body like this was their first time. He carried Buffy back to his room, where they'd find his bed. Usually, they didn't even make it to the bed; the rug on the floor was closer. This time, he was going to do things right.

Once she was on the bed, Spike positioned himself above the slayer, kissing her lips again, before travelling lower, showering her with kisses along the edges of her bra, until she could take no more and removed it for him. Normally he would tease her about being a little too eager, but now he was just glad she felt it too. Once the offending garment was removed, he noticed marks from their last shag. Her torso was covered in little bruises, some sucked on, some left by his hands. He was doubtlessly in no better shape, but he felt a little sick that he'd inflicted all that on Buffy. No wonder she hadn't believed that he loved her.

Gently, he stroked her breast, avoiding the bruising near it. When she urged him on, he stroked a little harder, thumbing her nipple. Buffy rocked her pelvis into his again, urging him on. He kissed the nipple he'd been thumbing, sucking it into his mouth.

"Spike," Buffy sighed, arching into her lover. She loved the way he savored her, like every moment was precious. That said, she was incredibly turned on right now and she wanted him. As she felt him bestow the same treatment to her other breast, she ran her hands down the planes of his chest, stroking over his hard abs, down to the prominent bulge in his pants. He retaliated by sliding her jeans off and stroking her clit.

Pleasure wracked through her and she arched into his cool hand. She reached up and unbuckled his belt, dropping it beside the bed, and then getting to work on his jeans, pulling them off. She rolled them over, deciding she wanted a turn. She kissed Spike passionately, while her hands moved down to his erection. Completely catching him by surprise, she stroked the sensitive underside of his cock. He moaned against her lips. She pulled away, wanting to hear him.

"Oh god, love," he tilted his hand back as she stroked him. His breathing sped up (despite the fact that he didn't even need to breathe). He had never dreamed that Buffy would do something like this with no strings attached. To manipulate him, yeah, they'd been there before, but this felt a lot different. As Buffy's hands sped up and her grip tightened, a breathless moan tore from his lips, "Buffy," he gasped.

She stopped abruptly, "sorry," she removed her hands, wondering what she'd done wrong. She looked up at him, seeing bruises marring his pale body. _Maybe that's why,_ she realized, _maybe I'm too rough with him_.

Spike shook his head, "no, love, don't be sorry. I was about this close," he showed her a tiny space between his thumb and index finger, "to-" and that was all Buffy let him say. She slid down, this time positioning herself atop him. As he spoke, she thrusted, and his tip slid ever so slightly into her.

Spike moaned, capturing Buffy's lips in another kiss. This kiss was passionate, and as they kissed, Spike thrusted into her ever so slightly further. Buffy moaned against his lips, urging him on.

Hours later, the two lay sated, Buffy ignoring that she should be patrolling, and her friends would have questions for her tomorrow morning. As she ran her fingers through Spike's bleached blond hair, which was vaguely curly when his hair gel wasn't holding it immobile, she began to speak. "Spike—William, I think," she double checked that his eyes were closed before she finished, "I think I love you," she admitted.

Spike was roused from his sleep when Buffy spoke, hearing her voice softly around him, "Spike—William, I think," and then a pause, like she was searching for words, "I think I love you," she finally whispered. Barely believing what he was hearing, he pulled Buffy into an embrace, his voice low and soft as he spoke.

"I love you too, pet."

**~end~**

**That was my first time writing anything like that, so feedback would be of the good. Love it, hate it, in character, OOC, whatever you noticed would be awesome! Thanks for reading and to Fallen Priestess for beta-ing. I bow to your knowledge.**


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